


Rollercoaster

by HonestlyJustHereForALaff



Series: Spectrum [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Autism, Autism Spectrum, Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 16:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17870834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonestlyJustHereForALaff/pseuds/HonestlyJustHereForALaff
Summary: The highs and lows of Kurt's first few days as a Warbler.Follows the events of "Special Education".





	Rollercoaster

**Author's Note:**

> Breaking with tradition a little bit here and making this one a multi-chapter. This one's taking a lot longer to write than I thought, but I don't want to leave you all hanging any longer than I already have, so we're doing it like this. Luckily, I managed to pull a metaphor out of my butt that will make it seem like this was the plan all along. Those people rude enough to skip the author's notes will be none the wiser. ;) Enjoy!

Blaine swore Kurt was walking taller when they all finally left the chamber choir room, and the next day at school. Everyone had heard about the audition, it seemed, since random kids kept high-fiving him in the hall or stopping to congratulate him. Kurt seemed a little surprised every time, but his eyes were glowing.

Blaine couldn’t be more proud. None of this had been easy for Kurt, but he’d taken the steps to ensure his own happiness, and come out on top. And best of all, he’d done it without ever having to hide any part of who he was.

He wished he could say the same for himself.

“Wait, wait!” Blaine stopped Kurt before he walked into the choir room, much to Kurt’s confusion. “Look, we all talked it over, and...well, we want to give you the proper first entrance you didn’t get last time.”

Kurt’s face softened at that. “Well, you know me, I’m a sucker for a big entrance.”

Blaine smiled and nodded. “It’ll be just a second,” He said, before rushing inside and closing the door. 

The Council gave him a questioning look, and he nodded.

Wes banged the gavel, officially calling the meeting to order. “Welcome, Warblers,” He said. “Today we will be discussing more plans for Sectionals, and rehearsing our big group number, which we will all decide on in this meeting, after our special order of business.”

He nodded to Blaine, who instantly took hold of the door handles, more than ready to throw them open.

With that settled, Wes continued. “And now let’s welcome the newest addition to the Warblers...Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine opened the doors to Kurt’s smiling face, joining the applause as soon as his hands were free. Unfortunately, he had to walk away, so he could be ready by Pavarotti’s cage. Kurt didn’t seem to notice him, at least not yet. He wondered if Kurt was an animal person.

Once Wes thought there was enough applause, he banged his gavel to get everyone settled. “In our oldest tradition for our newest Warbler...an actual warbler.”

“Kurt, meet Pavarotti.” He almost jumped his cue in his excitement. Jeff was going to miss the little guy, he knew, but Kurt getting Pavarotti was such a big deal. It meant he was really here, really a Warbler. 

He took his cage carefully, walking it over to Kurt as Wes continued. “This bird is a member of an unbroken line of canaries who have been at Dalton since 1891. It’s your job to take care of him, so he can live to carry on the Warbler legacy. Protect him. That bird is your voice.”

Blaine wished Wes wouldn’t lay it on so thick. He understood why--Kurt needed to understand how important this was. Like, 1891 important. But Kurt looked scared out of his mind already. Blaine had spent a good part of last night researching bird care, and had printed out the articles to give to Kurt, but he didn’t know that. He’d just been asked to take care of another living creature out of nowhere. How was he going to react?

He saw Kurt’s nervous smile stretch even bigger, and he suddenly knew exactly how.

“Hey, I’ll bring him to work with me. Weekends I volunteer at a stray cat rescue.”

Blaine knew Kurt so well at this point, so he knew he was joking, but he could feel the tension in the room. No one else got it, or if they did, they didn’t think it was funny. Maybe the silence would clue him in?

“It’s at the bottom of a coal mine.”  
Okay, maybe not. Blaine felt the secondhand embarrassment swirling in his stomach, and he couldn’t look at Kurt, though the smile wouldn’t leave his face. There was something nice about hearing jokes when the Council was “on duty”, as it were. Most of them didn’t dare.

Kurt finally seemed to get what was happening, because his voice was much smaller. “That was a joke. I don’t--I don’t work at a coal mine.”

Wes’s gavel mercifully puts an end to the explanation of the joke. “Let the Council come to order.” 

Blaine finally looked up, grateful to see Kurt doesn’t look too embarrassed. He knew he would be, if he were in that situation, although, he was easily embarrassed. He tended to be really careful in conversations, terrified of making a mistake, and if he did, obsessing about that mistake for months. Kurt seemed fine, but he made a note to check on him after the meeting.

“Today we discuss the set list for Sectionals.”

Kurt turned to look at Blaine, specifically. “Council?”

Blaine was confused for just a split second--didn’t he mention the Council yesterday, when he explained that they weren’t laughing at him? But he realized that was just it--he’d only mentioned them. And for all Kurt knew, the only thing the three boys behind the desk ran was his particular audition.

“We don’t have a director,” Blaine jumped in, since everyone else seemed confused about...well, Kurt’s confusion. “Every year we elect three upperclassmen to lead the group. But don’t worry,” He grinned. “We all get a say.” He knew Kurt would like that. If his various rants were anything to go by, Kurt was sick and tired of being talked over by his old director. His voice was equal in here, though, and he saw that realization dawn on Kurt’s face.

“Oh, fantastic!” Kurt gushed, and Blaine’s smile grew. “I have a lot of ideas. Warblers, if I may?” No one said anything--maybe that was a McKinley thing, how they took the floor at his old school?--but they were all listening.

“Now, I can’t deny that The Warblers’ vocals are absolutely dreamy, but I believe our set for Sectionals should have a little more showbiz panache.” Blaine was ready to hear exactly which showtune Kurt thought they should perform, but as usual, Kurt surprised him.

“I think we should open with ‘Rio’, by Duran Duran.”

Blaine’s stomach inflated and lifted like a balloon. Once, and only once, Kurt had let Blaine choose the music in the car when they did their semi-weekly coffee run, and the whole ride had been filled with a mix of Top 40 and rock n roll. He remembered practically squealing when Rio came up in the rotation, singing his heart out. He purposely didn’t bring up Cooper, but he had explained how much he loved the song and Duran Duran growing up when Kurt seemed annoyed by the admittedly strange instrumentals.  
He’d also lamented that he’d never be able to sing it for The Warblers, since they tended to stick to pop.

And now, when Kurt had his moment to push for a song he wanted, or a song that would get him an easy solo, he’d instead chosen to lift up Blaine’s idea.

The New Directions hadn’t deserved Kurt.

Unfortunately, sweet as it was, it didn’t really mean anything at this point.

“The Council is responsible for song selection,” David informed him.

Kurt’s face fell a bit, and Blaine wanted to throw something at David for making that happen.

“But we appreciate your enthusiasm, Kurt,” Wes tried to save it. “It’ll come in handy one day, when you’re sitting behind this desk.”

That made Blaine soften a bit. Wes didn’t say things like that lightly. He already saw a leader in Kurt, and so did Blaine.

Still, as Wes continued the discussion, Kurt seemed down, and Blaine couldn’t even blame him. Sure, the Council had the final say on the setlist, but every member had been able to submit suggestions at the beginning of the semester, and at least have them considered. Kurt didn’t get that, through no fault of his own. It wasn’t fair.

Eventually, the meeting was over, and Kurt was led out by Trent, who would be going over the finer points of taking care of Pavarotti. Blaine stayed where he was, watching everyone file out until it was just him and the Council.

They seemed surprised that he hadn’t moved. “Is something wrong, Blaine?” Thad asked.

“Uh, kind of.” Blaine said, forcing himself to stand up. He wasn’t exactly the best at confrontation. At least with Karofsky, he didn’t know him to begin with, plus he’d been awful to Kurt. If he made a bad impression on Karofsky, it wasn’t a problem. But these were his friends, his fellow Warblers. He didn’t want to rock the boat, or make it seem like he was ditching them because he had a new friend. But he still wanted to call them out. It really was unfair, right? He wasn’t imagining things?

“Would it have anything to do with Kurt’s suggestion?”

Thank God for Wes. “It would, yeah.”

“We understand,” He said, looking to David, who continued.

“Our setlist this year is going to be very pop-centered. We have reason to believe the judges will have a very ‘out with the old, in with the new’ attitude, so we’re planning accordingly. Even if he’d been able to submit the suggestion when the rest of you did, we would have made the same decision. It was nothing personal.”

“In fact,” Thad piped up, and Wes and David smiled at him and each other. Why were they smiling? “We appreciate that Kurt is taking such initiative as a new member. We need more strong voices in this group, singing and otherwise.” Thad finally looked back at him. “We have a lot of work to do, working out the arrangements for the setlist. Can we ask you to pass along a message for us?”

“Sure?” Blaine was relieved to hear that it really was nothing personal, and was glad he’d have something to tell Kurt if it turned out he was upset.

“Tell Junior Member Hummel that we have one more spot open for next week’s solo auditions.”

Blaine could feel his face lighting up. There were some members who’d never gotten the chance for a solo audition all four years, and they were offering one to Kurt on his first real day as a Warbler. He knew he wasn’t the only one who saw something special in that guy. And Kurt doing a solo at Sectionals? He’d be so happy, and they’d definitely win with that kind of secret weapon in their back pocket, and--

"Blaine?" Thad's voice suddenly came through. 

Blaine almost jumped, and shook himself out of it, almost literally. Where had the urge to flap come from? 

Focus, he had to focus. 

"Sorry, yeah, yes, of course,” He said, a bit breathlessly.

“Then you’d better hurry,” David laughed. “His long legs are probably halfway to Lima by now.”

Blaine gave them a half-wave of thanks, then darted out of the room.

He went to the classroom where Pavarotti had been staying first, but it was empty aside from the bird in question. His water and food bowls were full, and he was hopping around like he did when he was bored, so they must have left a while ago. Oh right--Kurt didn't live on campus. Did that mean Pavarotti would stay here? Or would he go to Lima? That was a long drive, would the Warblers even agree to--

No! Focus, he had to focus!

He made his way to the stairs, but it was getting pretty crowded--some of the other clubs were getting out right about now, too, it seemed.

He was relieved when he saw a familiar coif of hair, and ran down to catch up. “Hey Kurt, wait up!”

Kurt didn’t look too upset, which was a relief, given what happened the last time he’d tried to catch up with him after a Warbler meeting. It almost made him nervous to bring it up, but he didn’t want to just ignore what happened. 

“I saw that glee club was hard for you today, seeing your ideas shot down like that.” Was that too harsh a way to put it?

“It’s just a different energy in there,” Kurt answered. “Not better or worse, just...something I’ll have to get used to.” His voice was even, but almost too much so. Same with his face, when Blaine could bring himself to look at it. Sometimes he wondered if the amount of eye contact he made was actually normal, and he was just overthinking it. No one ever seemed to comment on it, not even Kurt, who had a comment for everything. What did that face mean? God, everything was so loud in his head.

Focus, he had to focus, had to focus, focus focus focus focus--

“We recognize that,” Blaine said. “And we have a history at this school of rewarding a student with a good attitude…” He positioned himself so he would be in front of Kurt at the bottom of the stairs. Blaine felt his chest almost get hot, he was so excited. Kurt was going to love this.

“So!” Oh God, his voice had suddenly gotten so loud, and went up almost a whole octave.

Don’t dwell, don’t dwell, keep going, don’t forget the eye contact.

“We would like to invite you to audition for a solo.” There, that one went over okay.

It definitely went over okay with Kurt--his neutral smile was gone, replaced with a light behind his eyes and the beginnings of a real smile. “For Sectionals?” His voice was almost breathless--was he really that surprised?

Blaine thought he might scream, and he hadn't felt that urge in a long time.

He had prepared himself for this, or so he thought. It had been a very overwhelming couple of days, even if it was in a good way. And he had ways of getting through these sorts of days. Lots of planned alone time, tins of silly putty hidden wherever he could get at them, even a dedicated playlist on his iPod. He was used to managing his usual rollercoaster of emotions, but Kurt had a way of rebuilding that coaster, making the lows lower and the highs so, so much higher.

He was certainly experiencing that high now, so much that his mind blanked out yet again. How many was that now? He had to look away, and could only bring himself to repeat, “For Sectionals.” He looked back up, hoping Kurt had calmed his expression a bit.

Wrong--Kurt’s mouth was spreading into an even wider smile, and Blaine thought he might cough up his heart, it was rising so high. Every muscle was twitching, so much that anyone would notice if they looked too long.

He needed to get out of here.

“Sing something good,” He tried to joke, already walking away. He really hoped that wasn’t rude, but he just couldn’t stay there. He knew what was going to happen if he stayed there one second longer.

* * *

As he drove home for the weekend, he couldn’t stop frantically tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He wished he could listen to music, one song in particular, but he’d learned long ago that listening to music AND trying to drive when he was this worked up was a one-way ticket to, at best, having to slam on his brakes and dealing with a honking horn on top of everything else. He’d have to settle for the tapping.

When he got home, he didn’t even announce that he was home, just ran straight up to his room. He closed the door as a courtesy, then searched in his closet.

It took him a second to find it, buried under a pile of sheet music. Had it really been that long since he used it? He sifted very carefully, and eventually his hand brushed some familiar wood instead of paper. He let out a triumphant huff, grabbing the neck and hoisting.

He didn’t play his guitar as much as the piano. He’d heard someone say just once that only douchey guys carry a guitar around, and now he couldn’t get it out of his head every time he thought about taking it somewhere. It was his go-to instrument when he was composing, though, and for times like this.

He sat on his bed, having to spend longer than normal tuning it, since his hands were still shaking. After a brief debate on whether the calluses were worth it in this state, he dug through his bedside drawer for a pick. The smooth texture let just the tiniest bit of air out of his over-inflated emotions.

Finally, he had to take a deep breath and focus. He could play this song with his eyes closed, of course, but he was doing this for a reason.

He pressed the neck in that familiar place, and started to strum.

Just hearing those familiar, repetitive chords made him start floating back to earth. He felt his smile start to shrink from manic to satisfied as the words flowed out.

“ _Hey there Delilah, what’s it like in New York City_

_I’m a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty_

_Yes you do…_ ”

It was the first song he’d ever learned on the guitar. The chords were pretty simple, and even though he knew he was gay by the time he heard the song at age 10, the hopeless romantic in him still liked the idea behind it. These days, it was his go-to calm-down song.

Every so often as he sang, Kurt’s smiling face would burn in his mind again, but he did his best to focus on the chords, the melody, the words he was saying. He figured opening his eyes would help, and forced himself to stare at one spot on the carpet.

By the time he got to the end, he was mostly grounded again. His foot twitched every so often, but he knew that would go away in a few minutes.

“ _Oh, oh,_ ” He finished, and strummed the last chord.

He was enjoying the silence, when there was suddenly a soft knock. He knew that knock anywhere.

When he looked up, the only thing that surprised him was that his mom had opened the door. Her eyes were a little pinched--angry? No, confused. Not upset, though, because there was no crinkle between her eyes.

“Haven’t heard that one in a while,” She said. “Everything okay?”

Blaine nodded, feeling the good kind of smile spread across his face. “I’m great, Mom, promise. Good overwhelmed.”

“That’s good.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but closed it again.

“Mom,” He sighed, putting his guitar aside. They’d talked about this, how she couldn’t just act like she was going to say something and then not say it. It always made his mind run wild with possibilities of what she might have wanted to say, and he’d JUST calmed down.

“Sorry, I know.” She took a second to put the words together. “I was going to ask something, then realized it would be prying, so I’m not going to.”

Blaine nodded. That was fair enough. Once Mom started with questions, it tended to go on far longer than either of them wanted it to. “Thanks.”

“Of course, honey.” She smiled, blessedly starting to back out. “I’m making sarciado with last night’s leftovers for dinner,” And with that, she closed the door, leaving Blaine back in the blessed quiet.


End file.
